INSERT EXPLETIVE HERE
by CrystallicSky
Summary: Cursing is an art-form... CHACK, ONESHOT, RATED FOR LANGUAGE


**#$%!  
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**By: CrystallicSky**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Xiaolin Showdown or any of its characters, nor do I make any profit or attempt to with the writing of this or any of my other pieces.**

**Warnings: Bad language, sexual implications, homosexuality, etc.**

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"What?!" Jack exclaimed in a tired slur, sitting up in bed.

"You _said_ you wanted to improve, Spicer," Chase coolly reminded. "To improve, you must put forth effort, and that effort must be given whenever it is needed. Now is one of those times for which it is needed."

"Why 4:30 in the fucking morning?!" the goth demanded. "I can put forth effort, like, five hours from now just fine; probably even _better_ than right now, 'cause I'll have actually had some fucking _sleep!"_

"True, but then you would be missing out on the _discipline_ you so desperately need," the everlord pointed out. "In any case, you aren't about to get out of this. Get dressed and meet me in the foyer for morning exercises. If you refuse to show up, I'll send Diol to drag you kicking and screaming."

With that, the man turned sharply on his heel and stalked gracefully back out the open door of his consort's bedroom, grasping the doorknob in preparation of pulling it shut behind him.

Jack, frustrated and annoyed, grumbled a favorite foreign phrase under his breath, "Sut djavlepik i helvede din bossedvarg."

Without missing a beat, Chase stopped in the doorway and turned to face the albino, assuring, "I already _do_ suck devilcock in hell, my little demon, but I regret to inform you that while there is evidence of my being a homosexual, I am of average height and therefore cannot qualify as a 'faggotdwarf'."

Jack's cheeks burned as bright as his hair and his jaw dropped completely. "Yuh…you speak Danish?" he meeped, embarrassed at having been caught in his curse.

Chase snorted. "I am over _fifteen-hundred years old,_ Spicer. Do you honestly think I wouldn't have picked up a few languages in that time?"

Gaze downcast, Jack cleared his throat and awkwardly admitted, "Y…yeah, I guess you would've, huh?"

"I did, but that doesn't explain about you," Chase spoke. "When did _you_ find the time to pick up Danish of all things?"

"I've got mom to thank for that," the goth muttered. "In addition to the ice-skating and cooking classes she had me in, I had at least six language classes."

"Really?" the everlord murmured, intrigued. "What languages do you know?"

"Well, English and Mandarin, but that's kind of to be expected since I lived in America _and_ China when I was younger." Jack thought back for a moment before adding, "I also know German, Danish, Spanish, Finnish, Arabic, and Gaelic."

Chase joined his lover on his bed. "And you know them all fluently?" he inquired.

"Most of 'em," Jack shrugged. "I haven't practiced with 'em in a couple of years, so I'd probably be a little rusty, but I made sure to remember how to ask where the bathroom's at and swear at people."

With a snort, Chase asked, "You put highest priority on being able to cuss?"

"Being me, you kinda have to," Jack smirked. "I look weird; people stare no matter _where_ I go. That's why it helps to know how to swear in as many languages as possible. That way, chances are no matter _where_ I am, I'll be able to tell off the starers!"

"I suppose I should've expected as much from you, my foulmouthed lover," Chase sighed. "You always _have_ been a crass little boy."

"Hey, shut up," Jack demanded. "Like _you_ don't know any swears in other languages!"

Golden eyes leveled a stare at him. "Ah…" he spoke slowly after a moment, "I…suppose I do."

"You _suppose_ you do, or you _do?"_ the goth challenged.

Chase scowled, though he supposed he had that coming: he often corrected his consort on little grammatical things like that. "I _do,"_ he stipulated.

Jack grinned cheekily at that. "Gimme one, then," he entreated.

"Hmm?"

"A swear in another language," he elaborated. "I always like to hear new ones. You never know when you're gonna get in an argument with somebody and need to know how to insult them in their own language."

A bemused grin flitted across the everlord's face. "You truly want to hear this, don't you?" he inquired.

"Hell yeah, I do!" Jack exclaimed. "Now, gimme one."

"Very well," Chase allowed. "Gladna Karpatska valchitza s dalag kosam minet da ti prai deeba."

"What's that mean?" the goth wondered.

"Let a hungry Carpathian long-haired she-wolf blow your dick, fuck," the warlord explained.

Jack laughed. "Awesome," he sniggered. "I'm making a note of that one! What else have you got?"

"Not so fast, Spicer," Chase chastised with a grin. "I hardly see how it's fair that I'm the only one providing you with information."

"So…what?" the youth wondered. "You want me to give you a couple swears, too?"

"Contrary to popular and _mostly_ correct belief, I don't know _everything,"_ Chase admitted. "I think it would be an adequate challenge for you to present me with cursing the likes of which I've never heard."

The goth snickered. "Clearly, you've never gotten into a big enough fight with me," he teased, "but alright. Try this one on for size: go n-ithe an cat thu, is go n-ithe an diabhal an cat."

Stumped far too early into this little cursing-game that'd been initiated for his liking, Chase frowned. "I recognize the structure as Gaelic," he asserted, "but I do not know the words."

"Basically," Jack grinned brightly, "I just told you that I hope you get eaten by a cat and that the cat gets eaten by the Devil."

"How creative," Chase mused. "I certainly can't say as I've ever heard _that_ one before."

"So, that means you've gotta tell _me_ one, now," Jack reminded.

Chase thought on it a minute before replying, "Da Bog da ti zena rodila stonogu pa ceo zivot radio za cipele."

Red eyes blinked at the other man. "I almost don't want to ask…but that means what, now?"

"May your wife give birth to a centipede so you have to work for shoes all your life," Chase informed.

The mental image that came unbidden with the translation drew a near-cackle from the genius, and for almost a minute, Jack was bent over in the throes of his amusement.

"Wow," he giggled when he could speak somewhat properly again, "just…just _wow."_ He was quiet for a second or two, getting his breath back and thinking. "Okay, okay, I've got one: kuse muuntajaan."

This time, Chase couldn't even pinpoint the language, and so simply nodded at his consort to explain the phrase's meaning.

"Means 'piss into a transformer' in Finnish," the goth informed. "I've gotten a _lotta_ use out of _that_ one…"

Chase snorted. "I'm certain I don't wish to know the stories behind those uses," he quipped. "Now, how about this one: nǐde mǔqīn shì yīgè dà wū guī."

Jack was thoroughly fluent in Chinese and so understood each word that was spoken. Still…understanding it didn't meant that he _got_ it. "Why'd you call my mom a big, dirty turtle and why should I be offended?" he asked his overlord.

"It requires a bit of thought for one who does not already know the implications of that statement to take insult to it," Chase replied. "Turtles are promiscuous and besides that, the child of a turtle will never know its father."

That said, Jack got it. "So, you called my mom a filthy slut and me a bastard all in one?"

Chase grinned. "That's the gist of it, yes."

"Well," Jack decided, "if that's the way you wanna play it, 'nǐ bú shì rén.'"

No offense was taken to this statement. Instead, Chase merely laughed. "You aren't insulting me, my consort," he informed, "you are stating a fact: I am _not_ human."

"Damn," the goth cursed. "And I bet you've already heard, 'cào nǐ zǔxiān shíbādài…'"

"I have and that one would only work if I _cared_ about the eighteen generations of my ancestors enough to take offense to someone saying, 'fuck them.'"

Jack thought for a long moment, trying to call to mind a sufficiently nasty insult Chase would not have heard before.

Then, it came to him. "Air il'e yoshmotak!" he exclaimed.

Chase only blinked in response. "And that means…?"

"May you be struck by a dick," Jack declared triumphantly. "It's Arabic."

The incident in which Gary Kasparov was attacked by a flying peniscopter came to the dragonlord and he burst out laughing.

When his vocal amusement died down to mere snickers, he chose to risk speaking. "Spicer," he purred to his lover and apprentice, "you know of the most amusing things… Tell me, are you at all in the mood to be… _frisky…?_"

Jack grinned, pulling Chase down to the bed with him. "I'm _always_ in the mood to be frisky is it's with you," he assured.

As master and consort reveled in one another's company, peeling each other out of their clothing and preparing to enjoy themselves, Jack mentally declared himself even more of genius than he already was.

After all, how many people in the world could successfully distract and derail the Great Chase Young's train of thought from early morning training to midmorning sex?

With a soft chuckle that his lover interpreted as aroused eagerness, Jack delighted in his own wicked intellect and prepared to fulfill his consortial duties to his overlord.

"Bàojúhuā, indeed," he murmured.

**--**

**A/N: This was inspired by reading the Cracked article, The 9 Most Devastating Insults From Around the World. XD**

**Anyways, the only thing I really have to say regarding this is that 'bàojúhuā' means to 'explode the chrysanthemum.' The chrysanthemum is meant to refer to an anus, and so the general meaning of it works out to, "insert the penis into the anus," AKA, anal sex. ;P**

**Anyways, thanks for reading and I hope you liked the fic! :D**


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